


A Conversation at Saint Amand's Celestial Tavern

by Eida



Category: Digger (Comic)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 00:13:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eida/pseuds/Eida
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some heroes aspire to godhood. Others have godhood thrust upon them--whether they like it or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Conversation at Saint Amand's Celestial Tavern

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bessemerprocess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bessemerprocess/gifts).



> Thank you to Llwyden and Chris for beta reading!

It was a busy evening at Saint Amand's Celestial Tavern. Patrons could be seen in plentitude--gods, demigods, and spirits of all shapes and sizes. The air was full of the sound of conversations, and if someone were to stop and listen, they would soon be able to pick out the distinctive sound of wombat grumbling that came from a table tucked into the corner.

"This is all _your_ fault," said Digger-of-Unnecessarily-Convoluted-Tunnels, more commonly known these days as Digs-Out-Demons-From-Their-Dens, a newly-ascended minor goddess worshipped by several hyena tribes.

"Now, be fair," said Boneclaw Mother, also newly-ascended, mostly on account of being Digger's adoptive mother. "I'm not the one who brought you into this. It's not my fault that some... what's the opposite of prescient? Someone who sees the past, rather than the future?"

"Postscient, I would imagine," said Ganesh, who was not at all new to the godhood business.

"Thank you," said Boneclaw Mother. She took a swallow of mead, then turned back to Digger "It's not my fault that some postscient hyena had a vision of you and Ed doing in Sweetgrass Voice and decided it was a sign you were worth worshipping."

"Well, you're the one who decided to keep me in the story about how Ed killed the demon," said Digger. "I mean, Ed seems to like being a deity just fine."

"Is not bad at all!" said Ed, also known as Ed Heart-Render. He was slightly less new to the business of being a mortal ascended to godhood, having attained that critical mass of worshippers, or prayers, or myths, or whatever it was that made a dead hero into a deity, a bit before either Digger or Boneclaw Mother--he was quite popular among male hyenas. "Is known I was a skin-painter still, is told in legend. Many skin-painter think, Ed-god was skin-painter, can maybe help me. And sometimes I can! Can make hands steady, or give dream to help skin-painter know which are best patterns to put on warrior. Is not quite as good as actual skin-painting, but is always nice to help."

"And it was him who killed Sweetgrass Voice," Digger pointed out. "He broke the chain and sent the heart crashing down, so really, he's the one who deserves the credit."

"Now, now," said Boneclaw Mother. "You were there, after all, and it's not as if you didn't play a role in the demon's death. And besides, even if I had left you out, you'd still have showed up in Quiet Fang's vision. And what's done is done." The hyena grinned. "Try and be a good sport about it."

"But..." Digger protested. "I'm a wombat. We just don't... we just don't get deified. We don't worship gods, and we certainly don't become them!"

"If it's any comfort, your worshippers seem to think of you as more of an adopted hyena than a wombat," said Boneclaw Mother. "You are, after all, supposedly the daughter of one of our gods."

"Because of the name _you_ gave me!" said Digger.

Boneclaw Mother shrugged. "It suited you."

"I haven't even _met_ the Mother of Earthquakes!" Digger crossed her arms. "At least nobody dragged my biological mother into this. Or my father, for that matter. As far as I can tell, the myths don't even mention a father."

"Myths often shift over time," said Ganesh. "It may be that this gap in your mythology is one that will be filled in. Still, I think it unlikely that your biological father will ascend to godhood--or, given his species, be dragged kicking and screaming into godhood. There is precedent, after all--there are plenty of gods who are fatherless, or for whom the identity of their father has been deemed mythologically irrelevant. Your biological parents do not play a role in the saga that propelled you to godhood, and so it is unlikely that they will be worshipped, unless you ask your followers to do so."

Digger snorted. "Then it's not going to happen. Well, that's something, I guess."

Ed looked thoughtful for a few moments, then seemed to shake himself a bit. "Is not so bad, being god. Digger-mousie not big goddess, is very small. Maybe people ask for help if demons cause trouble, but not a lot of demons on hyena land. Maybe ask for help if earthquakes, ask you to ask Mother of Earthquakes to please stop making ground shake. But--maybe they ask you to help do things you like, yes? Is possible, like with Ed and skin painting. And not too many worshipers, so is not pulled too many ways at once, like hide being stretched."

"I'm glad you're happy, Ed," said Digger. "But... I've spent my whole life thinking of gods as being more trouble than they're worth. Meaning no offense to the present company, of course."

"None taken," said Ganesh, taking a sip of tea.

"I mean, you've always seemed like a pretty decent person," Digger said, turning to Ganesh. "Though I guess I'm more acquainted with your statue than with you, personally, but I'd guess your statue would have to be something like you, right? Still, there are gods like you, and then there are gods like the Dark Mother who messed up poor Murai's head. Speaking of whom, what happened to her? Murai, I mean. Not the goddess."

"Murai lived to the age of forty-one," Ganesh said. "Her madness never left her, but she made peace with it. She did much good in the world, and died while rescuing a child from a demon."

"Oh." Digger looked down into her mug.

"She had a fair share of happiness," said Ganesh. "In that life, and in those that followed. And you will no doubt be pleased to hear that, in subsequent lives, she bore no great burdens of destiny."

"That's... good to know," said Digger. "It feels a little strange. Everyone I knew in life is dead by now. Well, except for you guys. And maybe Shadowchild--though I'm sure it's all grown up by now."

"Yes," said Shadowchild, who had entered noiselessly. "I suppose I am."

"Oh!" said the wombat, turning in her seat. "It's nice to see you again. You’ve... really grown.”

“I have,” the demon said. “Just a bit.” Shadowchild was perhaps half again the size it had been after consuming a fragment of Sweetgrass Voice. Looking around the tavern, it began to shrink until it was closer to hyena-size before settling itself down at the table. “You’ve grown, too.”

“Have I?” Digger asked.

“You look the same size, but you feel much bigger now,” said Shadowchild. “And you give off a lot of light.”

“I guess that comes with the whole god package,” said Digger. “Wait--I thought you didn't get along so well with the presence of gods,"

"Not usually," said Shadowchild. "But that seems to have changed, recently. I think a little godstuff got into me, so I can get into the places where gods are."

"It would seem, burrower," said Ganesh, "that some of your godhood has rubbed off on your demon companion."

"Blood and shale... don't tell me this divinity stuff is contagious," said Digger, her palm pressed firmly against her forehead.

"I'm afraid it is, to a certain extent," Ganesh said. "At least for those involved in your body of myths. When you have the time, you may wish to make a study of applied theology. The methods by which pantheons are born, and by which they grow, and by which they change over time, seem as though they might be of relevance to you."

"I can see that," said the wombat, still facepalming.

"It's quite all right," said Shadowchild. "It doesn't hurt or anything--it just feels kind of different. There's a lot of light here, and a lot of sharp-edged shadows, but now I can swim in the shadows rather than drowning in them like I would've before. I don't think I'm all the way a god. Just a little bit of one."

"Well..." said Digger. She sighed. "Since you're here, how have you been? The last time I saw you, you were trying to teach demons to be good."

"Yes," said Shadowchild. "It has been... difficult. I am not always certain what good is, or what evil is. Sometimes it's clear, but sometimes morality gets all fuzzy around the edges... but you know that. You are the one who taught me about it in the first place. Still, though it's been hard at times, I have been doing my best." The demon smiled. "I have found young ones, small ones who had found no mentor of their own kind, and raised them up as best as I could. And then, when they grew older, they did the same. There are quite a few of us, now--those who do not eat what talks, who try to be kind."

"So, do the little demons ask as many questions as you did when you were small?" Digger asked.

"I think they ask even more," said Shadowchild, looking mildly exasperated. "I don't like it when I don't have good answers for them. I worry that I'll say the wrong thing, and they'll get all the wrong ideas... but I guess they've all turned out okay, so far. Was that what it was like for you?"

"Pretty much," said Digger. "Both with you, and with my own children."

"Same here," said Boneclaw Mother. "Kids are resilient. As long as you do your best to teach them to do the right thing, and not to say one thing and do another, then they usually turn out just fine."

"Always have to try hard to do what is right," said Ed. "Even when is hard. Even when hurts. Have to do what is best, make child safe."

"Ed..." Digger started, but Ed smiled, a bit sadly, and said, "Is all right, Digger-mousie. All in past. Am glad little one grew up strong."

"She was doing well, last I saw her," said Boneclaw Mother. "She had a mate and children of her own by the time I died. Cute kids. Her second-born was always getting into his father's paints--I think he took after his grandfather."

Ed's smile grew a bit more genuine. "Is good. Maybe Ed saw one of the grandchildren of his grandchildren, helped them without knowing we shared blood! Will maybe try and figure out who is Ed's blood now."

"I kind of wonder what's going on with my family, after all these years," said Digger. "Of course, I can't check on them, since they're immune to the prying of gods, thanks to Descending Helix." Her brow wrinkled in annoyance. "I kind of liked having that immunity back when I was alive and mortal. Now it's kind of irritating."

"I'm sure they're doing fine," said Boneclaw Mother, patting Digger's hand. "If they take anything after you, they're plenty capable. And you certainly got along fine without gods getting in the way, most of the time."

"I wasn't going to interfere or anything," said Digger. "I just wanted to, you know, see the great-grandkids, see if anything new's been going on in the warren." She shrugged. "But I guess there's no helping it."

"If you'd like," said Shadowchild, "I can go look, and tell you how things are doing."

"That would be great!" said Digger. "If it's not too much trouble--I mean, I know you must be busy with your students, and all."

"We shadow demons have ways of traveling that let us go great distances far more quickly than those of flesh and blood," said Shadowchild. "It would be no trouble at all. And perhaps I could take some of the younger ones with me--it might help with..." Shadowchild trailed off.

"Help with what?" Digger asked.

It looked away for a moment. "I... wasn't sure whether or not to tell you this. But apparently one of the young demons was hiding in the corner of a hyena's home while she told stories to her children. And..."

"Don't tell me," said Digger. "It was the one about me, wasn't it."

"Yes," said Shadowchild. "And... well, they seem to think you make a practice of hunting down demons who are evil. The eavesdropper went back to its companions and told them what it had heard. By the time I heard the tale myself, it had undergone a few... changes."

"What kind of changes?" Digger asked.

"Some of the children say that you'll come on overcast days to gobble them up if they're not good."

The wombat blinked a few times. "So you're saying I've basically become the demon equivalent of the Giant Saber-toothed Mole for a generation of demon children."

"We always had the Cave Lion's Ghost," said Boneclaw Mother. "Came out when everyone was asleep to eat naughty young hyenas. Much more frightening than any mole."

"Speak for yourself," said Digger, a bit defensively. "I used to have nightmares."

"Ed is certain it was a very frightening mole," said Ed, in a comforting tone.

"I'm sorry, Digger," said Shadowchild. "I've tried to stop them. But it hasn't worked."

The wombat sighed. "It's all right. I mean, I'm already a god. Why not add 'monster' to my repetoire?" Suddenly, she stiffened. "Wait. If the demons have a mole-under-the-bed version of me, does that mean there could be another, scary version of me running around at some point? Like with the goddess Murai saw? The Dark Mother?"

"Hrm," said Ganesh. "It is theoretically possible, should the belief gain enough momentum. But the factors that led to the Dark Mother's creation are not present here, and the alternate version of you would be rather different than the Dark Mother. You do not commit filicide in the young demons' stories. You are a frightening, but not wholly malevolent being--you spare those who are good, after all."

"Blood and shale," Digger repeated. "I never wanted this."

"Neither did I," said Boneclaw Mother. "But here we are." She took another swallow of mead. "Daughter, you and I both know how stories take on a life of their own. If you become some sort of Cave Lion's Ghost, it won't be any of your doing. And it won't be you. And I doubt you'll end up doing anything worse than the Cave Lion's Ghost did--which is give a few kids nightmares, and maybe scare a few of 'em into behaving. It's not like you'd actually be eating anyone."

"Correct," said Ganesh. "Given the nature of the belief, should an alternate version of you manifest, I do not think it would be especially strong. It would frighten people, as the story does, but do no worse."

"I still don't like it," said Digger. "Wait. Does this mean the Giant Saber-toothed Mole is real?"

"As real as any of the tales told to children," Ganesh replied.

"How real is that?" Digger asked.

Ganesh smiled. "As real as the children believe them to be."

Digger scratched her head. "I guess they'll grow out of it, eventually."

"Most likely," said Ganesh. "Though they may well pass it on to the younger generation, in turn. Only time will tell."

"I'll do my best to discourage them," said Shadowchild, still sounding contrite. "Maybe if they see other wombats, and understand you used to be an ordinary mortal, they'll stop thinking of you as something scary."

"Thanks," said Digger. She drained her mug. It immediately refilled itself. Looking down at her mug, she asked, "Hey. Is it possible for gods to get drunk?"

"Sometimes," said Ganesh. "It depends on the god. As with all things, burrower, I would advise moderation."

"Yes," said Shadowchild. "I drank the shadow of a whole barrel of that fermented wheat stuff. I felt all wobbly and twisty for a while after that."

"I'll keep that in mind," said Digger, taking a sip of her drink. "So. Since apparently I'm stuck with this, is there anything you think I need to know when I... um... do god things?"

"Be kind to those who offer you their loyalty," said Ganesh. "Help those who need help, if you can--though keep the nature of the help you offer in mind. Some people need help being lifted from their current situation; others may need to be challenged in order to grow. Know that your words and actions carry great weight to those who follow you--do not speak or act rashly."

"Be good," said Shadowchild.

"Yes," said Ganesh, smiling. "Be good."

"Well, I do try," said Digger.

"Then that is all you can do," Ganesh said.

"As long as you're careful about the company you keep, I'm sure you'll be fine," said Boneclaw Mother.

"Heh," said Digger. "Well, at least I'm not in this alone."

"Never," said Ganesh.

Ed's ears perked up. "Ed is glad to have friends in same--how Snout-god say?--in same pantheon. With other hyena gods--some nice, some frightening, but Ed knows Digger-mousie, knows Boneclaw Mother, knows both are good people, will make good gods."

Boneclaw Mother laughed. "As good a god as I was a matriarch. And I made a right fine matriarch."

"And I'll visit, too," said Shadowchild. "When I can. The young ones keep me busy, most days. But since I can come to god-places now, I'll come see you when I'm able. Though I guess I can't help much with god business. But if you ever need me to remind you how to be good, I remember everything you taught me."

"Thanks," said Digger. "And I'd like that, Shadowchild."

Then she chuckled. "A wombat goddess. Hah. What would the folks back home think if they knew?"


End file.
